


Necessary

by LtTanyaBoone



Series: Connor!verse [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-15 01:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is this really necessary?" Ziva asks, her voice shaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessary

**Disclaimers:** NCIS, the rights to the show and its characters do not belong to me. No money was made by this.  
 **Spoilers:** none  
 **Pairing:** Tim McGee/Ziva David romance  
 **Rating:** FRT  
 **Summary:** "Is this really necessary?" Ziva asks, her voice shaking.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" Ziva asks, her voice shaking slightly. Tim takes her hand gives it a gentle squeeze.

"It's gonna be okay." he tells her and gives her a reassuring smile, but she doesn't return it. Instead, she looks at him darkly, as if this is his fault. Well, technically, it is, because he's the one who asked for the best timing on their last doctor's visit. But even if he hadn't, they wouldn't have been able to get around it, anyway. So really, he isn't the one to blame here.

Thankfully, the nurse calls their name and prevents him from hearing just what Ziva has to say on the matter. Instead, she contents herself with a glare and gently picks up the baby carrier, careful not to jostle it too much and wake their son.

Doctor Anderson greets them with one of her cheery smiles and gently runs her finger down Connor's cheek. The baby stirs lightly in his sleep but then sighs and settles again.

"Seems that I lost my magic touch." the doctor smiles, her voice low as she sits down and Ziva carefully unstraps the boy and takes him out of the seat, murmuring soft Hebrew to him. McGee watches as she gently lifts him up to rest his head against her shoulder and holds his head as the infant gradually wakes up. He places a burp cloth on her shoulder and she gives him a grateful smile as it is something she usually forgets.

"How has he been?" the doctor asks them.

"Pretty good, actually. The colics seem to be gone now." McGee tells her, watching as Ziva kisses Connor's head as the boy starts looking around, an unhappy sound at the interruption of his sleep coming from him. At times like this, he wishes that he spoke Hebrew and understood what she is saying to him. Then again, she has asked him if he is okay with her speaking Hebrew with their son, and he said he was. And he is, because is it such a huge part of her, of her heritage and where she comes from, that he would never take the chance to pass it onto their son away from her. Plus, her voice and Hebrew lullabies are just pure magic.

The pregnancy had come as a surprise. Not that they weren't together for long or not committed to each other already. In fact, they had been close to their second wedding anniversary. No, it was more that, after what Ziva had been through in her life, especially Somalia (though he is still fuzzy on the details of that, she doesn't talk about it unless pressed), she has sustained more trauma to her abdomen than is considered healthy. Her previous OB/GYN had even considered her infertile. And the pregnancy had been trying, without a doubt. The issue had never been with Ziva's ovaries, but due to the amount of scar tissue in her uterus, it was doubtful that her body would be able to sustain a pregnancy, much less carry a child to term. Her previous gynecologist had even suggested an abortion, to spare them the heart-ache of a miscarriage. Ziva had simply stood from the chair she had been sitting in and walked from the practice. Once Tim caught up with her at the car, she had merely shaken her head and asked him to drive to Arlington. He had spent almost three hours sitting in the car while she visited Jenny Shepard's grave. When she returned, her eyes were bloodshot and her nose red from crying, but once they were at home, she had been determined in her decision to have the baby. And if her doctor was not going to help them, then they would simply have to look for one that would. Which was how they had found Troy and Sam Anderson. He is a gynecologist and she is a pediatrician who shared a practice just outside of Silver Springs. Troy had experience with cases like Ziva's, and he had been optimistic. Still, even with his experience and help, it had been a bumpy ride. For the last three months of the pregnancy, Ziva had been on bed rest, and Tim had feared she would go crazy. But he had never heard her complain about it, or about her swollen ankles or anything, really, besides his work hours.

In the end, Connor had still been born four weeks early, but that had been expected. In fact, the goal had been to get Ziva to the 32nd week of pregnancy, and she had made it to the 36th, which was something even Troy had not thought would be possible and more than he had hoped for.

By now, Connor is looking around, becoming more alert, and Ziva gives his temple a soft kiss before placing him on the exam table and undressing the baby. Once he is naked except for his diaper, Sam begins testing his reflexes, keeping up a steady and gentle commentary to calm him and inform Ziva and Tim of his progress. Once his weight is taken, Connor gives an unhappy shriek when Sam puts the stethoscope to his chest, causing the doctor to flinch.

"Sorry. They're usually fine since I keep it tucked in my blouse to keep it warm, but some babies are more sensitive than others." she apologizes, Ziva hovering at her side and gently stroking Connor's head of dark hair. "But his heartbeat's strong and his lungs are clear." she informs them, writing it down in his file at the same time. "You're breastfeeding him, right?" she turns to Ziva, who slowly nods.

"Yes. We cut back on the extra bottles since he is gaining weight and didn't demand more feedings, but-" she begins, her shoulders sagging. Tim slowly gets up and moves next to her, squeezing her shoulder gently and trying to reassure her that she's doing things right. In the beginning, Connor had trouble gaining weight and didn't seem to ever stop being hungry, something Ziva blamed herself for, just like him being born early. There had been many tears, from both mother and son, but with extra formula feedings, he started to settle and gained weight much easier. In fact, at their last visit, Sam had encouraged them to try to cut back on the formula, seeing how important it was to Ziva, as long as they were keeping a close eye on the boy's weight. And both Tim and Ziva had thought he was okay since he didn't appear cranky or hungry or showed any signs of needing more feedings or food again than Ziva was able to provide, or that they needed to adjust his schedule.

"Ziva, relax." Sam smiles at her, squeezing her hand. "Trust your instincts. He's doing just fine, he's healthy and his weight is normal. Stop worrying so much." she tells her, waiting for Ziva to nod, and her husband feels her relax slightly. It's something that Tim will probably never get, how she is always doubting her abilities as a mother, how she doesn't believe she is taking good care of their son, even though he tells her frequently what an amazing job she is doing. It's usually Sam who settles her worries by telling them that Connor's developing just fine for his age, and ever since their first visit, when Connor had still been crying from colics and Ziva had been almost beside herself because she couldn't calm him down, Sam makes sure to remind her to just trust her instincts and act according to them. Which may be the problem, Mossad taught her to do the same and she has been trying to not act on them since she started at NCIS, to think more before she acted, and now she has to start over again, at least with their son.

"I was going to say that you can slowly introduce him to mashed food. Bananas, cooked carrots. No additional sugar or salt. And don't try to replace his meals just yet, just offer him some of it, if he doesn't like it, it's fine." the doctor tells them, smiling at Connor. "Okay, and now for the not-so-funny part." she sighs, and Ziva tenses visibly.

"I will be outside." she murmurs, bending down to kiss her son's forehead. Tim can already see the tears burning in her eyes when she passes him. Once the door closes behind Ziva, Sam sighs and begins preparing the syringe for Connor's shot.

"Does she always react like this when Connor gets upset?" she asks Tim, who shakes his head.

"No. I don't think it's really about him getting upset. It's more that you're hurting him, and she has to allow it to happen because it's necessary and will help him in the long run." he explains, gently holding the baby's arm as Sam rubs it with alcohol and then quickly gives Connor the shot. As soon as she takes her hand away, the baby starts screaming loudly. Tim picks him up and holds him close in the few seconds it takes for the door to open and Ziva to walk in again, tear tracks on her cheeks already. He hands Connor over to her and she cradles him close, showering his temple and cheek with kisses and muttering words of apology to the baby. It takes some time for the boy to calm down, added to by Ziva's own state of upset. Once Connor is merely whimpering, she hands him back to Tim so he can dress him again and strap him back into the car seat, giving the boy a kiss to his cheek.

"He'll be a bit cranky and upset and tired, but you know that. If he gets a fever, call me, otherwise he should be fine, if not tomorrow, then the day after." Sam tells them, gently stroking Connor's wet cheek before shaking Tim's hand and then Ziva's. "See you in a month."

Once they have a new appointment and Connor is secured in the car, Ziva glares at Tim, her arms crossed.

"What? Come on, you know it's-"

"Necessary? Yes, I know. And it isn't about the shot." she tells him, rolling her eyes.

"What's it then?" he wonders, raising an eyebrow.

"You gave Connor his get-well-kiss. I want mine." she pouts, and he laughs.

"Of course. How could I even forget that? I must be a horrible husband." he jokes, wrapping his arms around her waist and brushing his lips gently over hers. Ziva sighs against his lips and leans in, hiding her face in his neck.

"I know I'm irrational, and I'm sorry, it's just-"

"Hey, you don't need to justify your reaction. He's our son; I don't like to see him get hurt, either."

"But you can deal with it."

"Ziva…" he sighs, kissing her temple. "I much rather have you cry because you don't want him to get hurt than have you go ninja on Sam." he tries a joke and can feel her chuckle softly. He runs his hand over her hair and hugs her again. "I love you. You don't have to apologize for being unable to watch him get his shots, you just want to protect him. I take the shots, you take the bloody noses. We already made that deal, now we're just sticking to it. Okay?"

She sniffles before leaning back to be able to look into his eyes before nodding. "Okay." she agrees, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

_fin._


End file.
